Me and Emily
by blackbeltchic
Summary: Mrs. Jordan settled for the wrong man a few years back, and now she has to live with her mistakes as she takes a trip cross country to escape the life she had been living, to try and forget her past. (BA eventually)
1. Part One

Title: Me and Emily

Author: blackbeltchic

Disclaimer: The song is sung by Rachel Procter, and the characters belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy. The only one who is mine is Emily.

Mrs. Jordan squinted through the rain and the fog, trying to stay on the highway. The cell phone wouldn't stop telling her that the battery was low, and the gas tank was promising to empty out at any moment.

She heard a noise behind her. Em had rolled over, deep in some dream. She quickly surveyed the remains of their cross-country drive. The back seat, and front seat for that matter, was trashed, and she couldn't help but feel her hands still weren't clean enough.

_Floorboard's filled with baby toys_

_An' empty coke bottles an' coffee cups  
_

_Drivin' through the rain with no radio,  
_

_Tryin' not to wake her up.  
_

_Cell phone says "low battery",  
_

_God, what if I break down?  
_

_I'm just lookin' for an exit with a lotta lights,  
_

_A safe little interstate town._

_**Just a cheap hotel,  
**_

_**With a single bed,  
**_

_**And cable TV  
**_

_**Is good enough for me an' Emily.**_

After her daring escape from the town she had considered home for seven years, she talked herself into going back to college, and that's where she had met him. He was exactly what she needed to move on and forget.

_Some day, when she's old enough,  
_

_She's gonna start askin' questions about him.  
_

_Some kid at school brings his Dad for show an' tell,  
_

_An' gets her little mind a-wonderin'  
_

_"Where's my Daddy? Do I have one?  
_

_"Does he not love me like you do?"  
_

_Oh, maybe I'll find someone to love the both of us,  
_

_An' I'll tell her when she's old enough to know the truth._

He had been incredibly tall, with light brown hair, totally good looking, he was as sweet as can be, kinda possessive, and he could imitate accents.

They were married just after she turned 25, and he let her complete the school year, before becoming a housewife. It had been a small wedding, just his family and friends; she didn't want to bug hers.

_Will it break her heart?  
_

_Will she understand,  
_

_That I had to leave?  
_

_That's what was best for me an' Emily._

Just after their first anniversary, she learned she was pregnant, and that's when he changed. Maybe he just didn't want the child. Suddenly she couldn't do anything right. Her hormones were wacky, and the more she cried, the angrier he got. Things only got worse after Em was born, the house was never clean enough, supper was never on time, or cold, and she 'spent too much time with that damned baby!'

_That house was never clean enough_

_His dinner never warm enough.  
_

_Nothing I did was ever good enough to make him happy.  
_

_So, I guess, he gave me what he thought I deserved,  
_

_But it would kill me if he ever raised his hand to her._

Five days ago, it became too much. When he started hitting, she didn't take it meekly as she had so many times in the past. She fought back. Now she was a murderer. She had thought she had loved him, but along with everything else she had become in the small "sunny" town, she had become adept at lying, so much in fact, she had convinced herself.

_Big rigs are throwin' rain on my windshield,  
_

_An' I feel like they're laughin' at me.  
_

_Fin'lly the storm is lettin' up,  
_

_An' the mornin' is breakin' free._

The rain slowly stopped, and a breeze picked up. She opened her window a crack to feel the wind on her face, drying her tears. She looked through the thinning fog at the predawn city. It was like returning home. She had been born in this city, and she had come here in hopes that so many others did: to get lost.

She found a parking spot; locking up the few possessions they had, picked up Em, now one and a half, and started looking for a place to stay.

_It's a brand new day,  
_

_It's a second chance.  
_

_Yesterday is just a memory,  
_

_For me an' Emily.  
_

_Ah._

_**Floorboard is filled with baby toys,  
**_

_**An' empty coke bottles an' coffee cups.  
**_

_**Least there's one good thing that he gave me,  
**_

_**An' she's startin' to wake up**._

"Buffy?"


	2. Part Two

Me and Emily

Part two

Author's Notes: Thanks to Queen Boadicea, Crystalix, Emily, and Vanillagigglez for reviewing. I want to say right now that this didn't end up where it was supposed to, so if you have any problems with it, let me know.

She turned at her name in the predawn light, and saw the one thing above all else she had failed to forget, no matter how she had tried.

"Uh, how are you?" he looked at her, and saw the child, "It's been awhile, hasn't it?"

"Yeah. I'm good, how are you?" the bruises had already faded, and she had wiped all remains of her tears away.

"Getting by. H-have you been in LA all this time, or…."

"No, lived out east for awhile, but I missed the Californian atmosphere. Moving back, if we can find a place to stay."

"I, uh, have some room. I don't want to but into your life, but…" The 'we' stung, implying that she still had someone, someone she had chosen over him.

"That'd be great." The toddler on her hip whined, "Shh," she soothed, rubbing her back. He caught the flash of a gold ring on her hand, "Oh, this is Emily."

He nodded, before setting off for the hotel.

"Oh, uh, why don't we go in the car?" she asked after a moment. He nodded, and she handed him the child, against her better judgment, and ran the two blocks back to where she had parked.

He held the child, who had stopped fussing, now looking back the way her mother had gone, like there was something wrong with the picture.

They reached the building just as the sun broke over the city, sending light flooding into most corners.

"It's not much, but we get by," he said as he led her inside.

"We?" she asked, marveling at the courtyard. Not much was an understatement.

"The gang and I. One after another they slip away, but Gwen moved into the 'freak house,' which keeps Gunn nearby. Nina uses the basement when she needs it, but her sister finally let her back into the house. People come, people go. Nothing stays the same," he pushed open the doors, into the lobby.

"Boss, got another case. Fungal demon or something like that. It's on Southside drive, stinking up the neighborhood. Should I gather the troops?" a black man asked.

He nodded, "Let me show you around," he told her quietly. Emily was wide awake now, sucking on her binky and staring around with wide eyes.

He led her up the stairs, and she saw door after door lining the hall. He opened the sixth door on the left.

"This hasn't been lived in since…I think it'll do."

"Since what?"

"Cordelia. She died…a long time ago."

"I'm sorry."

He shrugged, "People come, people go, the only thing that stays the same around here is me. Will this do?"

She looked around the room, "Yeah. Thanks."

"No problem. If you'd like some breakfast, we'll be serving in about a half hour." He left.

She found her way to the kitchen, after unpacking the small amount of things they had. She found that the table, a large, industrial strength table, already had people sitting around it.

She stood in the doorway until he motioned her in, "Just sit anywhere." She nodded, and sat at the end farthest from anyone. She really didn't want to be social, she thought as she settled Emily on her lap. The girl wriggled a bit, but she held her firm, and she stopped.

He placed a huge thing of scrambled eggs, followed by sausage and bacon, in the center of the table, "Dig in, guys." He sat at the head of the table, filling a plate for himself. She stood, grabbing a plate, balancing both it and Emily, and started piling some egg and sausage onto it.

"Here, let me do that," he offered, jumping up.

"No, I'm fine." She finished filling her plate and sat back, balancing Em on her lap, trying to cut up some of the egg and toast to bite sized bits.

"Uh, Gunn, do we still have that highchair in the basement?" he asked after a moment.

"I think so, let me go check." The black man left, and she filed his name away. A wildish looking woman she guessed was Gwen, or it could be Nina, started to say something, but he stopped her. There were others, but none really caught her attention, like they were good at being invisible.

The black man came back a few minutes later, dragging a high chair that had seen better days. He was right there with a washcloth to wipe most of the dirt and grime off the tray as she settled Emily.

"Thank you. I don't know how I can repay you…" she said, after he brought a plastic plate for Em.

"No need," he smiled at her softly, and she wondered how she'd allowed herself to get into this mess.


	3. Part Three

Me and Emily

Part Three

Author's Notes: I want to thank Buff, Tina and Queen Boadicea for reviewing the second chapter!

Later, while Emily was napping, tired after their cross country flee, she wandered down into the lobby of what she suspected to be a hotel to find herself in the middle of a meeting.

"Gunn, Wes, you take the east entrance, Fred, you and Connor take the south entrance. George, Tom, John and Walter, you've got the west entrance, and Gwen, and I've got the north. Any questions?"

"What's going on?" she asked from the landing.

"Buffy, nice to see you. It's been awhile," Wes said, coming over to shake her hand.

"Hey, Wesley. What's going on?"

"Fungal demon is stinking up a posh 'hood, and we've got clean up duty," the lady she figured to be Gwen, now changed from a tight sweats combo into black and red leather, told her.

"Can I help?" she asked, coming down the last two stairs, "It's been awhile, but I've heard it's just like riding a bike," she said hopefully, before adding under her breath, "er."

"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes, "What about-"

"Em? She's down for her nap, and she's really no trouble at all. If someone would like to-"

"I will," a petite woman with brown hair and a hint of a southern accent raised her hand, "no offense, but I've always been better with numbers and babysitting than demon hunting."

"Fred, are you sure?" Wes went over to her and they continued in a hushed tone.

"Yeah, I'm sure," she gave him a look that intrigued Buffy, made her notice the gentle way Wesley's hand was on the woman's back, and the way he looked at her with such affection in his eyes.

"Are you sure?" he asked her.

"I've already been over this, Angel, though I haven't fought in awhile, it's something you never forget." The look in her eyes chilled him slightly.

"Fine. You ride with me and the gang. You all have your assignments. Leave the adults to the more experienced people." Some, seemingly younger, who didn't have the same look in their eyes that she had found in hers so many times after patrolling nodded, joking around with each other.

They headed out and piled into three cars. She waited for the others, Gunn, the leather woman, Wesley, and a sandy blond young man get in the car before she did, not knowing where to sit. It was a tight squeeze, she ended up in the front, between Angel and the blond man. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of her first fight in almost a decade that she didn't notice so much the time of day.

"Oh, Buffy, this is Connor, Gwen, and Gunn, you already know Wes."

"Hi."

"So, this is the infamous slayer?" Gwen asked.

"No, that's Faith," she said, turning in her seat, "I'm just your run of the mill slayer."

"She was on the hellmouth for quite some time," Wesley said from behind Angel, "Seven years, I wouldn't call that 'your run of the mill slayer.'"

"I haven't done much with my life, when I was living on the hellmouth, or after," she said, staring at her nails.

"What about the girl?" Gwen asked, "I mean, if that's your thing…?"

She didn't like the way she said it, implying something. "It wasn't. Not for a long time. So, what's the sitch?" she said, clearly changing the subject.

"Fungal demons have a nest in the sewers near Beverly Hills. We've been hired to take them out without a fuss. No frills, no glory."

"Didn't know there was any in killing," she let the word slip without meaning to, and once more she was examining the fingernails that weren't in the best condition. She would have never let them get in such state before. She fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger, not sure why she still wore it.

"Weapon of choice?"

"Huh?" she looked up.

"Weapon of choice?" Gunn asked, "For this sort of thing."

"Oh, um, I'm kinda partial to a sword, or a stake. You'd be surprised what a stake through the heart would kill. I once used a rocket launcher… What about you?"

"I like to use my hands," Gwen said, fiddling with the black gloves she wore, "Just one touch…you'd be surprised what it could kill," she taunted her.

"I prefer an axe, myself. Just something about holding all that power…" Gwen elbowed Gunn beside her, and he gave her a look that said fathoms.

"I like to use my hands too," the man, Connor, said from beside her, "but anything that gets the job done is good by me."

"What about you, Angel? What's your favorite weapon?" Gwen asked.

_How about words_, Buffy couldn't help but thinking.

"It doesn't really matter."

The conversation lapsed then, and the door that cracked when she had first seen him, and had opened with her last thought couldn't be closed as involuntarily she remembered things from her past, things from Sunnydale she had sworn she had put behind her.

But before she could get to the most harrowing details of her life, the car stopped, and they were there. They went down into the sewers using a covered manhole, placing it back so no one would be the wiser.

Then they were ankle deep in muck, residue from last night's storm, and she didn't have time to think of unpleasant thoughts and memories, because she had to ready herself for what lay ahead. She had done little to no slaying, not wanting Eric to find out, he wouldn't let her out of the house, and she didn't want to die, and leave Em without a mother. But what the hell, she'd already killed her father, why not complete the orphaning process in one foul swoop?

Angel, at the front of their line, stopped them with an outstretched hand. Gunn hefted his axe, Buffy raised the sword she found in the trunk, and Gwen pulled off her gloves as they waited for Angel to let them go.

He waited for the others to be in position, and then he ran into the opening, Buffy right behind him. There were fully-grown, or what she hoped to be fully grown demons, and smaller versions of them, and there were nests with sickly looking eggs inside. She left the eggs and the children for someone else, going after the largest demon she could find. It wasn't expecting her, and she sliced its neck before moving on to the next. She hacked and sliced, unaware of herself or any danger to her, as she worked off years of frustration. Years of not slaying, years of taking abuse, years of being cut off from the world she knew. She knew, some small part of her knew, that it was all her fault. She also knew, if she thought about it, that she was cutting an imposing figure for those that had never seen her before, never seen her in action.

She didn't feel the claws raking her back or arms, she didn't hear the calls of warning, she didn't see anything but the demons surrounding her as she hacked and maimed and killed. Later she'd feel the pain, both emotional and physical, she'd feel the betrayal she hadn't allowed herself to feel, she'd be exhausted from her efforts, but she didn't feel it now.

Finally someone stopped her, and she looked up into the eyes she had wanted so long ago to look into forever.

"It's over," he told her, taking to gore encrusted sword from her, "Let's get you home." She allowed him to lead her from the tunnel clearing, as the people who rode with them followed.


	4. Part Four

Me and Emily

Part Four

Disclaimer: see the first chapter. The lyric, once again, belongs to Rachel Procter.

Author's notes: life sucks right now, got bit by the neighbor's dog, so I wanted to get some fluff out to you guys. Ain't it ironic? Lol….anyway, here's the last chapter.

I want to thank everyone for reviewing the story, 11 in all as of right now. Queen Boadicea, it seems that yet again, your wish is my command. A bit of Angel thought….

And I would like to know what you think of the ending. Like I said at the beginning, when I started this, I had thoughts of dragging it out much longer, making it more angsty and all that, but it didn't play out as I wanted coughstupidmusecough.

* * *

It was a smelly ride back to the hotel, and it was also silent.

"Wait," she said once they reached the hotel, and they were on their way in. Angel stopped, looking back at her. "It's light out."

He sighed, "It happened a long time ago. Things were bad…there's this prophecy…but I started an apocalypse just to stop it, and so they gave me this," he raised his arms, "I'm not human, and I'm not a vampire. I can be staked, crosses still bug me, holy water too, but sunlight has no effect, and I won't age. I can't die by natural means, old age, sickness; it doesn't bother me. It's not the prophecy I knew, but it works to our advantage."

She just stared at him in awe and shock.

"Let's get inside, before we draw attention" He led her inside, her still too awed to speak.

Words came, however, after she had showered and changed, "H-How long?" she asked, sitting on the circular couch.

"Five years now," he said, five frustrating years where she had been missing.

"Wow."

"Yeah. So…how have you been?"

"Good. I got a bachelor's degree in fitness and health. I was going to be a fitness instructor but…"

"Emily?"

"Yeah," she took the easy way out. She didn't have to tell him she settled.

"What about you-"

"Dad," Connor came out of the office, interrupting, "There's someone on the phone for you," he finished after seeing Buffy and the look of surprise on her face.

"I'll be right back." After he had entered the office, and Connor had gone into the kitchen, she went up to her room, reeling from the blow.

"Angel," he barked, a bit perturbed that he hadn't gotten the chance to tell her about Connor.

"It's Willow. I think I have a lead on Buffy. And she's in trouble. There was this story in the Times yesterday. One sec…" there was the rustling of paper, "Eric Jordan, 26, was found early Wednesday in his apartment on 88th. Cause of death still unknown. His wife, Buffy, and daughter are missing. If anyone has information on their whereabouts, contact New York Police, 27th precinct," she stopped to catch her breath.

"Will, I've got to go, I'll call you back, ok?" he said, his mind racing. IS that why she had come to LA? Not to move here with whomever was Emily's father, but to get away from something?

"Wait-" he hung up. He went back into the lobby, but it was empty. He climbed the stairs and knocked softly on her door before entering.

"Who's Connor?" she asked, her back turned. She was staring out the window. Emily could be seen asleep in the next room.

He sighed, "Darla, brought back by Wolfram and Hart, seduced me. She wanted to relieve me of my soul, but I didn't love her. Nine months later…

"He grew up in a demon dimension where time flows differently. He'd be about eight now, if he hadn't gone. He came back, tried to kill me. Things happened, including what ultimately killed Cordy, and he tried to kill himself. So I signed on with Wolfram and Hart so they'd give him a real family, a normal life. He wasn't supposed to remember, but somehow he figured it out. Now he helps out around here.

"How about you tell me about Eric?"

She breathed out harshly, "That didn't take long. He was…convenient. He was good looking and good to me while we dated, and he convinced me to marry him, though my heart wasn't in it. I-I just wanted to forget. You and everyone I had lost…

"He wasn't such a nice guy once we were married. To say he was abusive is an understatement. But I took it. He could never draw a sound out of me, never made me bruise for more than an hour. He never made me cry like you used to, with just a look, or lack there of. And that infuriated him. But for some reason I didn't fight back. I didn't run away.

"But then Emily was born, and the abuse continued up until I went into labor. Somehow I managed to keep her, and she's healthy. But then he started beating me because of her….

"On Monday, he reached for her when he was hitting me, and I lost it. I never loved him, and had no qualms in killing him. But now I'm a murderer, and Emily will be taken away from me… So I ran. I ended up here by chance, just hoping to get lost in the bigness of the city… But then you found me…" She looked down at the windowsill, at her white knuckles, her fingers digging into the wood.

"It's ok," he moved to her and took her in his arms, their first real contact since she had arrived, "I'll take care of it. You'll have to give a statement, and maybe we can use some of your slaying scars to help our case, but I won't let them take Emily away from you."

She turned, looking up at him, tears in her eyes, "Why would you help me after all I've done?"

"Because I love you." He bent down to kiss her, and as their lips touched, there was a loud noise and light went through him. He cried out in pain and fell to the ground.

Emily in the next room awoke and started screaming.

"Angel?" she bent down, touching his arm, and was burned by the heat of him.

"That was some kiss," he murmured, and she smiled. "Go take care of Emily, I'm fine." She nodded and left.

When she returned he was sitting in a chair, not moving. "Angel?"

"I guess it was it after all…"

"What?"

"The prophecy, the apocalypse. I have some research I have to do, but I guess it wouldn't take full effect until the love of my life was here."

"What?" she asked, confused.

He stood, coming over to her, "I seem to be very much human." He touched her arm and she flinched once more at the heat that radiated from him. She stared up at him, an awed look on her face.

That afternoon, Friday, she met with some LA cops. Her arm was in a sling, and her eye was a yellowish color. Angel carried Emily. She told them the story, and her appearance convinced them that she was the victim of domestic violence, and let her go without a scratch. She apologized profusely about running, telling them she didn't know what to do, didn't know where to go. Some tears fell, and they took pity on her. Angel was amazed about how good an actor she was.

They let her go about an hour later, after signing a statement that would be sent to the 27th precinct. She knew her name would be in the paper again, but she didn't care. She had Em, and as they walked out, hand in hand, she looked up at him, and she had her angel.

Later that night, after he helped her feed and bathe Emily, they put her to sleep in the big bed, and tiptoed into the living area.

"Thank you," she whispered, standing in front of him.

"No problem." He pulled her closer and bent to kiss her. She stood on her tiptoes to make it easier for him, to deepen the kiss.

"I love you," she whispered after he had released her lips.

"I love you."

That night, they all slept in the big bed, Emily in the middle.

_Maybe I'll find someone to love the both of us_

END


End file.
